What is the essence of a literary magazine? To answer this question, it is important to first understand the society in which such a magazine or periodical is published and the culture of reading in that society. When we speak of a culture of reading, it is not only about reading as a skill, but also about a social practice and intellectual activity that is shaped by history, language, geography, and prevalent modes of dialogue. A culture of reading is not the sum of all readers. It is instead built through interactions between libraries, publishing houses, educational centres, various other cultural entities, and communities. In such a culture, magazines and periodicals that publish literary and cultural writings have great significance.
In the cultural sphere of society, such magazines may not always attain great popularity, but they continue to form a bridge between both writers and readers, as well as the past and present. A magazine or periodical is quite different from a book. A book often stands independently complete and definitive in its content. A magazine, on the other hand, embodies a certain ephemerality, being conceptualised sometimes as a series, sometimes as a response to events or to prior writing. With every publication, magazines ask questions, open avenues for discussion and exchange of ideas, and disappear from circulation only to reappear with new ideas at their designated date. This rhythm is continuous, fluid, and dialogic in nature. Our journal, हाकारा।hākārā, has been in such a rhythm for the last eight years. As we stand on the threshold of publishing this 25th issue of हाकारा।hākārā, we want to take a pause to reflect on our rhythm through this editorial. What have we done over these past years? What lessons have been learnt? And where do we want to go from here? Reflecting on these questions for ourselves in the context of a long tradition of literary journals in Marathi and other languages may offer some tentative answers.
Literary Periodicals
The history of literary periodicals is essentially the history of intellectual and creative expression through literature and art in human society. The earliest forms of periodical publishing can be found in 17th century Europe, where readers were being introduced to the new, emergent world of print through commentaries on books, and discussions of ideas. In the 18th and 19th centuries, with a growth in literacy and a reduction in the cost of print technology, literary criticism emerged as a genre in its own right. Alongside reviews, publications like The Edinburgh Review and The Athenæum helped define what constituted serious literature, cultivated taste among their readers, shaped the careers of writers, and kept some others in the obscurity.
In the second half of the 20th century, a counter-tradition emerged. It was that of the little magazines which were small, experimental, often financially unstable, but with a bold editorial stance. A publication like The Little Review, for instance, serialised Irish writer James Joyce’s (now) world-famous novel Ulysses, to demonstrate that the publication of great writers and their experimental writing need not be limited only to the established publishing houses. Experimental literature is thus produced through the efforts of periodicals and magazines that are driven by passion and often work on low budgets, without profits, and at the margins. This tradition is kept alive even today at a global scale by magazines like Granta and The Paris Review.
In India, and especially in Marathi, the tradition of periodicals has a distinct lineage. From the latter half of the 19th century, Marathi periodicals became a medium of social reform, linguistic identity and political thought, beyond their role as literary publications. The tradition of short periodicals has been deeply rooted in Marathi literary culture, especially since the 1960s and 70s. These short periodicals were published to give voice to social groups excluded from the mainstream as well as to discuss new, aesthetic imaginaries of literature.
When I lived in Kolhapur, I was introduced to this culture through popular Marathi magazines like Saptahik Sakal, Lokprabha, and Chitralekha. But it was the small manuscripts and limited issues published in our neighbouring regions that crucially shaped literary vocabulary and understanding for me and many others like me. In a nearby village, a friend from the literary circle used to proudly distribute cyclostyled issues from his Shabnam bag (a kind of crossbody handloom cotton bag popular in the 70s). Others would distribute their own or others’ handwritten manuscripts and poems in person. All this was not part of any organised publishing system, but these small groups and circles played a crucial role in our literary consciousness. In particular, this culture of (non) periodicals greatly enriched my literary vocabulary while I was a student at Shivaji University.
My professor Prakash Deshpande-Kejkar, who was associated with the non-periodical magazine Vacha, introduced me to the experimental short-form magazine tradition. Later, my reading horizons expanded further through interactions with editors-writers like Satish Kalsekar, who had been active contributors to the tradition. Connecting with magazines like Darshan, published from Konkan, alerted me to the scope and vitality of Marathi magazine culture. Later, as I became acquainted with the culture of periodicals and magazines in other languages of India, I came to realise that this culture is not incidental or supplementary to some ‘main’ culture, but rather an integral and perhaps primary form of literary culture.
The Beginnings of हाकारा।hākārā
Nine years ago, while initiating and conceptualising हाकारा।hākārā alongside Noopur Desai, we did not have a specific ideology or literary philosophy. Neither did we have an ambition or desire to transform either literature or society, or even to ‘leave our mark’ on any literary tradition. Rather, the idea of हाकारा।hākārā emerged from personal experience.
In my own writing, and professional work at the India Foundation for the Arts (an organisation dedicated to funding the arts), my interactions had never been limited only to writers of poetry, fiction or theatre. Through Noopur, I was further able to engage in a dialogue with artists and scholars in the field of visual arts practices. Both of us, as well as our friends and collaborators, had begun to recognise the need for a platform to bridge these artistic mediums and methods. Instead of being bound by one discipline or one single aesthetic predisposition, we sought a platform that would allow us to tap into knowledge practices in both Marathi and English; and initiate creative dialogue and research by bringing together the visual and the textual. This is how हाकारा।hākārā came to be published in 2017.
A Case for Bilingualism
Multilingualism was one of the key inspirations behind conceptualising हाकारा।hākārā. Cultural traditions in India are inherently multilingual. In particular, when I think about the Maharashtra–Karnataka border region where I grew up and studied, it was very much a part of everyday social-cultural life. Since childhood, I experienced this effortless exchange between the two languages, Marathi and Kannada. Moreover, I , just like most people in my networks, received my formal education in both Marathi and English. For this reason, ensuring that हाकारा।hākārā was bilingual, published in Marathi and English, was an important concern for us from the outset. This kept us conscious of the longstanding, vibrant bilingual and multilingual traditions inherent in Marathi culture.
In the preface to the anthology Kavita Kolhapurchi (The Poetry of Kolhapur) edited by our friend and poet Suhas Eksambekar, Prakash Deshpande-Kejkar writes: “Poetry in Kolhapur has a rich tradition dating back nearly three hundred years. Even with its ruptures and breaks, it is so abundant and rich that it is a source of great pride for us. Bahinabai, a saint-poetess of the 17th century laid the foundation of this tradition. Her poetry denounces ritualistic practices, expresses indignation against religious and social injustices, rejects discrimination based on religion, caste, or gender, and preserves the liberal legacies of ancient philosophical thought.” Deshpande-Kejkar goes on to write: “After a gap of about two centuries, Kolhapur became the ‘karmabhumi’ of Madhav Julian, who, in the first half of the 20th century, reinfused Marathi with Persian poetry traditions. Consequently, Kolhapur’s tradition of bilingual poetry was significantly enriched. It was through this Persian poetry that Sufi influence found its way into both North and South India, just as it did in Kolhapur. Madhav Julian was a proponent of Romantic poetry prevalent in that era, as was Rendalkar.”¹ By publishing works in Marathi and English, हाकारा।hākārā seeks to align itself with this very bilingual tradition, standing firmly upon the premise that bilingualism is an integral part of Marathi literary heritage.
This history of bilingualism is significant beyond merely the contemporary necessity of being in conversation with artistic discourse in English. Rather than giving in to the allure of the English language in an era of globalisation or emulating Western periodicals, we find it more pertinent to attend to the currents of multilingualism that have historically been inherent within the Marathi cultural universe and have shaped it. By being bilingual, we endeavour to carry forward a tradition long-established within Marathi literature and culture and transcend linguistic boundaries in order to foster a deeper, more profound dialogue.
On one hand, while the world seems to be ‘opening up’, dialogue between different languages and linguistic traditions seems to be diminishing. On a superficial level, one may be able to tell what speakers of two different languages are doing; but if this could be the subject of a deeper engagement, it would be a significant contribution to both the creative arts and the field of research. We try to do this through an exchange between the Marathi and English language, and to this end, the practice of translation is of paramount importance for us. Through these two languages, we can bring literature from various other languages to our readers. When we publish such translations, our objective is to introduce our readers not only to Marathi and English, but also to the diverse literary traditions existing in other languages. To foster this exchange, we have chosen not to limit our focus solely to written traditions, but have also given due consideration to visual media. With a discerning eye toward interdisciplinary artistic and intellectual practices, and driven by a desire to facilitate the expression and exchange of ideas through audiovisual mediums, we invite artists and art critics to contribute to हाकारा।hākārā.
I am often reminded of an incident in this context. When we published a Marathi piece by Krishnat Khot in one of our issues, some readers from other linguistic backgrounds asked, “Who is Krishnat Khot?” This simple question sparked a dialogue about contemporary Marathi writing, its thematic content, its relationship to social change, and its formal experimentation. In the context of globalisation, bridging this gap between literature and readers, in Marathi as well as other languages, is made possible through translation. We believe that this process also addresses the power imbalance between languages to an extent.
In the course of publishing हाकारा।hākārā, we have often been asked if we have a model or a prototype that guides us. There is a long tradition of literary periodicals in both India and the world, and at various points in time, people have experimented with forms and formats, striving to create something new. One example is the periodical Murāli, published from the Gargoti region in Maharashtra. On the surface, the physical format of a Murāli issue appears quite simple; the paper is of a basic quality, and its layout is also quite plain. It features local contributors from diverse social backgrounds, who draw upon traditions from the surrounding region. Almost Island is another example worth reading. It is a periodical published in English, co-founded by our poet-friend Vivek Narayanan. It is not limited to poets and writers in India, but also introduces readers to writers and artists in a broader Asian tradition. There are also periodicals like Words Without Borders, published online from the United States of America, which focus on translated literature. In the Marathi literary space, there are periodicals like Khel and Mukt Shabd that emphasise the question of interdisciplinarity within the arts. Maymavshi, on the other hand, focuses on critical translation studies. We find ourselves in a constant process of learning from these different examples and bringing in influences that resonate with us to shape the vision and structure of हाकारा।hākārā.
Editorial Process
We realised that while many periodicals are printed and published in the field of literature and the arts, there are many limitations to their reach to the general public. Also, quite often, one receives no acknowledgment of receipt after submitting poetry or other literary works. Authors remain entirely in the dark regarding the fate, whether good or bad, of the material they have submitted. There is typically no dialogue with the editor, and neither do most editors seem inclined to engage in such discussions. The work is simply published (if at all), and while there’s certainly a sense of fulfillment from seeing it in print, we feel that a more meaningful relationship that ought to exist between an editor and an author, is missing. This was on our mind while conceptualising हाकारा।hākārā.
When we submit our play or even our book manuscript to a periodical, we often receive no feedback from the other end regarding the nature or style of our writing. I have wondered what it would be like if हाकारा।hākārā were not limited merely to publishing reviews or commentaries concerning poetry, novels, or art, but rather, it could become a space for dialogue. Therefore, today, even as we discuss a current issue, we find ourselves deliberating on another issue slated for publication a year later. This is how the editorial workflow takes shape in our minds collectively, conceptualising and structuring the upcoming issue. Sometimes, contributors based in various places, whether North America or Europe or Kerala, expect editorial feedback from us. We make it a point to offer that feedback; it helps us discover new perspectives and build insight into our processes.
Over time, we have learnt to be mindful of several aspects. One, that we need to engage in discussions with both established and emerging writers and artists. Two, to have clarity on what we want to publish and why. Three, to have a realistic assessment of our own expectations, those of the readers and then of society at large and which of these we can fulfil. Fourth are the risks and limitations of an online journal. We find ourselves constantly reflecting on these ongoing endeavors and how these deepen our own critical understanding of literature and various art forms. Through such a process, the involvement of writers, artists, and scholars in the creation of each issue is significantly enhanced. Conversations with both new and seasoned writers and artists enable us to sharpen our editorial vision; discern the expectations of our readership and society; bring into focus the potential pitfalls; and, cumulatively, they serve to further refine and enrich our critical sensibility regarding literature and the arts. This commitment to constant vigilance and self-awareness remains an integral and enduring aspect of the publishing process at हाकारा।hākārā.
Published three times a year, each issue of हाकारा।hākārā focuses on a specific theme for which we issue a ‘call’ for submissions. In this call, we articulate our perspective on the chosen subject and invite the submission of literary works or artworks. We believe that this process of soliciting and selecting submissions should be as democratic as possible. When a piece of writing, a painting, or a poem is submitted to us, the contributor is fully informed about the status of their work—whether or not it is being accepted for publication, and if so, approximately how many months it will take to appear. If a submission is not slated for the current issue, the writer or artist is given a clear idea of when it is likely to be published. We place a lot of importance on maintaining transparency in our communication with those who submit their work to हाकारा।hākārā, and we constantly strive to uphold this standard. Consequently, we receive numerous queries and questions via email and through our website, and we make it a point to respond to every single one of them. Even though all necessary details, including deadlines, are explicitly provided alongside the open call, we still get the question “What is the final submission date?” Nevertheless, we patiently provide the information and confirm the deadline.
In the early phase, the हाकारा।hākārā team itself used to decide the theme for each new edition. However, over the past two years, our contributors, both writers and artists, have also begun to play a role in determining the themes for upcoming editions. Those who have previously published their literature, illustrations, or artwork in हाकारा।hākārā have started suggesting themes as well. In such discussions, we typically say: “Let’s go with this theme; but, could you please send us four lines outlining your vision for it, as a concept note?” Once we have these four lines, we discuss them and subsequently finalise the theme. After the submissions close, we proceed to review the material. For a single issue, we typically receive anywhere between 80–100 submissions, from which we select a final set of 20–25 pieces. Submissions often include many familiar names, those of friends, acquaintances, artists we know personally, as well as prominent, senior literary figures and artists. Our effort is to continue our work without succumbing to these pressures, stemming either from personal affections or the seniority of the contributors involved.
Those who place their trust in our process are always very pleased. Another key principle we adhere to at हाकारा।hākārā is that we do not republish material that has already appeared elsewhere, whether in print or online. We frequently receive emails inquiring about republications: “I had an article published in such-and-such periodical five years ago; would it be possible for you to publish it again?” No matter how excellent the piece may be, we maintain a strict policy against republishing. Once a submission is received, it undergoes a review process. These reviews are conducted by our editorial board. If we lack the necessary expertise to evaluate a specific submission, we forward it to subject-matter experts for their assessment and feedback.
Every aspect of हाकारा।hākārā is entirely voluntary and unpaid. For the last eight years, we have been operating solely on our own funds. We are not affiliated with any publishing house. The most challenging tasks for us are copy-editing and proofreading. Just the other day, I was discussing with a friend who has extensive experience in Marathi periodical publishing how we might tackle this challenge. Could we establish a pool of proofreaders and copy-editors? Is it possible to set up a structured system to manage them? We also contemplated whether we could conduct a training course specifically for aspiring proofreaders or copy-editors. Could such a program be hosted by a university? Universities could certainly consider this initiative and offer assistance in this regard. This is crucial because, unfortunately, a lot of material is currently being published in various newspapers without being proof-read and with a lot of errors. We make errors too. Proofreading and copy-editing constitute a specialised domain of work. Someone may be an excellent editor, but that does not necessarily mean they are equally proficient as a proofreader or copy-editor. It requires a dedicated team. Words Without Borders, for instance, has a large team for this. This kind of publishing infrastructure is common in other countries, but that’s not the case for us.
After publication, significant effort is required to ensure the issue reaches the public. In the early days and indeed throughout the first year, we tried to reach people through various channels. We would urge our writers to share their published work, and share the issue. More recently, however, हाकारा।hākārā has begun to reach people primarily through word-of-mouth publicity. Readers and connoisseurs now promote हाकारा।hākārā at their own pace. Initially, we found Facebook to be very useful to take the published issue to people, but the limitations soon became apparent. While it feels like a very open platform, Facebook algorithm limits unpaid reach. It has increasingly begun to feel primarily like a medium of self-promotion. Consequently, platforms like Instagram and Twitter began to feel more open. Even emails proved to be helpful, as did WhatsApp.
For the first few years, we had not obtained an ISSN number or accreditation from the UGC. Later, we felt that doing so would allow us to become part of a larger network, and attract new writers, artists, and readers. But the flipside of this was that once we received UGC accreditation, new forms of pressure began to emerge. Primarily, there was a significant increase in submissions from individuals within academia. Thus, while our sphere of influence expanded, its limitations also became apparent. We have established a clear policy from the start: if someone wishes to publish their writing solely to boost their API (Academic Performance Indicator) score, we will not publish their work. We are now often able to tell a writer’s motivations when we receive their submission. This took some practice in the early days. We generally refrain from publishing standard academic research papers. If a subject is truly unique and the writing is good, we put it through our review process. We occasionally receive emails from educators in various universities and colleges across India, inquiring whether they can publish their papers in हाकारा।hākārā. While it is gratifying to realise that our reach has expanded, it has come with the need to ensure that our review process remains rigorous and transparent. We keep this in mind in our efforts.
Many readers readers find it easy to access हाकारा।hākārā. Firstly, this is because as an online platform, it can be accessed, read or viewed freely, whenever one desires. Secondly, this space is grounded in a belief in democratic principles and people can freely share their reactions and perspectives. Readers can observe exactly what kind of literature is being published, whose artwork is being featured, and what content is appearing in both English and Marathi. Another crucial aspect, in my view, is that a significant number of those who write for हाकारा।hākārā or aspire to do so, are independent practitioners, not affiliated with any university or academic institution. हाकारा।hākārā is taking shape within a space defined by independent journalists and writers, people who write on their own terms, relying solely on their own strengths, without any external financial backing, and who have no need to depend on anyone else for the sake of APIs or career advancement.
When an issue of हाकारा।hākārā is published, many people read it on the very first day and continue to read it thereafter. Because it is published online, distribution is convenient and हाकारा।hākārā reaches a far wider audience than any print medium or printed periodical could. We are also learning new things about digital publication everyday. For instance, we have recently realised that if we use tags in both Marathi and English, the overall reach expands significantly. Friends and collaborators who possess a keen understanding of the internet brought this to our attention and concurrently, we have also made efforts to ensure that हाकारा।hākārā is mobile-friendly.
The Journey Ahead
The process of publishing हाकारा।hākārā is very enriching, but is simultaneously marked by distinct challenges. One challenge stems from the fact that precisely because we operate solely as an online publication and reach a vast audience, we need to strive just as earnestly for quality as we do for quantitative reach. Moreover, the attention span of readers and listeners in the digital realm tends to be brief. This online readership is accustomed to platforms like Facebook and Twitter. We observe this in the submissions we receive, where a significant volume of submissions consists of writing in the length and format of Facebook posts. People often seem to assume that content can be published in हाकारा।hākārā in the exact same form in which it is shared on social media. We feel people’s perspective on the online medium needs to evolve, but this does not seem to be happening yet. A second challenge we find ourselves confronting is the difficulty of sustaining long-form writing within the online medium. We want serious readers to view हाकारा।hākārā as something distinct from reading a post or forwarded message on Facebook, Instagram, or WhatsApp. Rather, we want them to perceive it as a dedicated space for serious intellectual discourse and use it to explore possibilities for engagement. Many have suggested that हाकारा।hākārā could undertake a diverse range of activities (seminars, discussions, offline events) to expand its reach. However, that is not our primary focus, nor will it ever be. The sole objective of हाकारा।hākārā is to publish literature and, through that medium, to engage in a dialogue with our audience.
We feel happy to share that alongside written contributions, we place emphasis on layout and visual presentation. We take a keen interest in the aesthetics and structure of the content. When we receive a submission, we often think about how we can best design and curate it to serve as a catalyst for broader discourse. In this sense, while holding on to हाकारा।hākārā’s literary strengths, we aspire to simultaneously engage with and consider various visual art forms. Of course, at a more fundamental level, we face certain technical hurdles. For example, within the Unicode system, it is often difficult to find readily available fonts that allow for the seamless typing of Marathi text, largely because many contributors are not yet fully conversant with digital technologies. Comprehensive dictionaries and thesauri for the Marathi language are not easily accessible online. In contrast, on Microsoft Word, one can simply right-click on an English word to instantly access contextual dictionary definitions. In Marathi, we encounter significant limitations in this regard. That said, the online medium also makes many things easier. We can effortlessly source and incorporate images or videos into our content. We can foster dialogue and discussion by engaging people residing in diverse locations, transcending geographical boundaries.
However, while the online format makes it possible to reach an ever-expanding number of people, this growing reach presents the challenge of maintaining and sustaining the high quality of our content. Merely increasing the number of readers is insufficient. Thoughtful and rigorous editing is equally crucial to fulfill our readers’ meaningful expectations regarding both intellectual depth and stylistic precision. It is vital for us to convey to our readers that हाकारा।hākārā is not intended merely for fleeting or entertainment-driven reading, but it is a vibrant space that invites serious discourse. We are committed to publishing issues that stimulate critical thought and foster discussion across various levels. Through this process, we want to open doors for dialogue among varied literary cultures in different languages. We are therefore learning and constantly evolving in this process of maintaining quality alongside a growing readership, encouraging readers to engage with long-form and serious writing, and connecting Marathi literature to a broader global linguistic landscape.
We aspire to continue this journey by achieving a presentation style worthy of the quality of our literary content, by exploring new possibilities offered by technology, and by remaining steadfast in our commitment to maintaining a vibrant platform for open, creative dialogue. We sustain हाकारा।hākārā entirely through the dedication of colleagues who work on a voluntary basis. At various stages of our journey, friends and collaborators—including Purvi Rajpuria, Srujan Inamdar, Mitwa Abhay Vandana, Anagha Mandavkar, Mayur Salgar, Pallavi Singh, Satya Gummuluri, Sohnee Harshey, and Asmita Chaudhary—have consistently contributed their efforts. They dedicate their time as and when their schedules permit, and it is through their collective efforts that each issue of our journal comes to fruition. Numerous translators and visual artists regularly lend their assistance too. These collaborators regard हाकारा।hākārā with deep affection, and work from diverse locations, carving out time from their respective professional obligations to contribute to our cause. While our team of collaborators has evolved over time and certain methods and technologies have shifted, our core principles have remained constant: a commitment to continuous learning, a willingness to adapt ourselves and our work as circumstances demand, and a dedication to maintaining open lines of communication with our readers, all with the aim of keeping the journal vibrant and contemporary. The most important thing for us has always been to observe the events unfolding around us, discern the changes they precipitate, understand their impact, and make appropriate changes to the focus and format of the journal.
Reference
Prakash Deshpande-Kejkar, Preface, The Poetry of Kolhapur, edited by Suhas Eksambekar, Lokvangmaya Gruh Prakashan, Mumbai, 2008.